nThere were only a
handful of multi-car teams; a significant number of cars were driven by their
owners. Some were sponsored by their own businesses: Champion Trucking, Negre Wrecker Service, Spencer Antiques, Frasson Cement.

nThere were NO provisional starting positions or
charters.

nThe tires were much
harder, and cars slid all over the place, including into the guard rail, where
they earned “Darlington Stripes.”

If the rear quarter panel of your car didn’t
look like this after a Darlington race, you hadn’t been driving hard enough.

I’ll
get nasty remarks for saying this, but one change I welcome is that Johnny Reb
no longer sits on the hood of the winning car as it makes its way to Victory
Lane. There are other ways to celebrate “Southern” in the Southern 500.

The
races I saw were exciting. They didn’t have 20 cars on the lead lap at the end,
but they had plenty of lead changes and plenty of passing, because the cars
weren’t all so close to equal. Also, because it was Darlington, you knew cars
were going to wreck or blow up (break), so there was suspense even when the
lead wasn’t being contested.

You
also knew drivers’ stories, which made it interesting even when they weren’t
running up front. H. B. Bailey and Coo Coo Marlin
were the ultimate part-timers, and Benny Parsons had been a cab driver in
Detroit.

We
even had Marty Robbins in the field in 1972, and he posted a 9th-place
finish.

When
I saw my first Southern 500 in 1966 (the Greyhound trip), Earl Balmer nearly took out the press-box when his K&K
Insurance Dodge came within a hair of clearing the first turn guard rail right
where that rickety structure stood.

Balmer came this close to
taking out the press-box, which was replaced after the 1966 accident.

Because
we were day-trippers and arrived fairly early on race-day morning, we saw
scenes in the parking lot that Miss Woody didn’t explain to us in the fourth
grade.

After
one race, buddy Dave Fulton and I were offered a ride from the parking lot to
town by a guy who then kept changing course every time he saw a police officer
directing traffic ahead. We were glad that he let us out.

I
have no idea if the parking lot has been cleaned up a little or if shifty guys
still offer young pedestrians rides, but I know Darlington is still special,
and a lot of that is because it’s still got its connections to the “good ol’
days.” I think if our sport had more such connections circuit-wide, it might
not be in such dire straits these days.

Frank’s
Loose Lug Nuts

When
I was describing drivers from the long-ago past who had life stories we all
knew, I was surprised to be reminded that Roy Mayne hadn’t driven in a Southern
500 I attended, which was kind of a surprise, since he raced out of South
Carolina.

Mayne
would be the perfect “back story” for today, because he was an active-duty Air
Force sergeant who raced for a hobby. As much as we honor our military service
members, today, wouldn’t having one drive at NASCAR’s highest level be awesome?

Roy
drove in 138 Grand National/Winston Cup events during a 12-year career and had
his best finish at Darlington in 1965, when he came home fourth, 19 laps behind
winner Ned Jarrett. He was driving the ’65 Chevy discussed and pictured below.

Roy Mayne in his part-time uniform.

Roy Mayne at speed. This car was the subject of
considerable publicity a few years ago when it was found and restored. Below is
how it looks today.

The thoughts and ideas expressed by this writer or any other writer on Race Fans Forever are not necessarily the views of the staff and/or management of Race Fans Forever. Race Fans Forever is not affiliated with NASCAR or any other motorsports sanctioning body in any form..